


Atsumu's thighs. That's it. That's the fic

by akaashook



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu is a bitch, Knee Pads, M/M, Sakusa is gay, Self-Indulgent, Thighs, bitches really out there having an obession with miya atsumu's thighs, did I mention? Thighs, long knee pads, sakusa and I are bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25568842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaashook/pseuds/akaashook
Summary: Atsumu shows up to practice with long knee pads and Sakusa is gay and totally gone(Summarizing my fics' contents is my passion)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 508
Collections: ~SakuAtsu~





	Atsumu's thighs. That's it. That's the fic

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 100% self-indulgent fic.  
> I dedicate this work to myself, because I deserved it.  
> I'd like to say something that makes sense, but at this point I'm too far gone byeee

Atsumu had nice thighs. 

It was a fact. 

An objective truth. 

Sakusa had seen those thighs wrapped in the thin fabric of his shorts, during their squat sessions, when those shorts lifted slightly showing the perfect musculature that had remained hidden under that very light veil. Sakusa had observed them when they were covered by the denim of his tight jeans during the outings with the team following a win. He hadn't taken his eyes away from them when, after a long practice, Atsumu had opened them wide to stretch, passing a hand over the parts that were a bit sore, moaning under his breath, as quietly as possible, not to be noticed by the others. 

But this was not expected. 

Sakusa hadn't been warned, was not ready, he had been caught by surprise.

Atsumu had never worn knee pads. 

As if that wasn’t enough, that day Atsumu showed up at the gym with long knee pads, like the ones Bokuto kept using since middle school. 

Sakusa was doomed. 

He was so intent on ignoring everything around him that he almost let Hinata’s question slip.

"Atsumu-san why the knee pads?" 

Atsumu smiled. 

Sakusa turned away. 

"'Cause lately we do a lot of two-on-two, I wouldn’t want to destroy my precious knees one of these days" 

Liar. 

For some reason Sakusa felt the setter’s eyes on him. 

He ignored them.

…

However, ignoring Atsumu all day was impossible for two reasons: 1) he was the team’s starting setter so, obviously, Sakusa had to hit his tosses 2) he couldn’t stop looking those knee pads that perfectly embraced his thighs, it was physically impossible and, no matter how hard he tried, his eyes always went back to him. 

As for the first point, it was not too hard, if one does not count the fact that sometimes a ball wasn't received correctly and Atsumu, as if nothing happened, lowered to perform that low toss of his, making the hem of his shorts rise slightly, uncovering the skin that had so far remained at a safe distance. Sakusa thanked all the gods he never believed in for the fact that those sets weren't directed at him, because if they had been, he probably wouldn't have been able to hit them in the right way, with the right timing, he wouldn’t even be able to make a decent run-up. 

Life was unfair. 

Being gay had never been so exhausting. 

During one of their refreshment breaks, Atsumu sat down next to him, spreading his thighs out enough to touch Sakusa’s bare one with his knee pad, and smiled at him. Sakusa looked down at their legs and felt his throat go dry. He took the water bottle to his mouth and drank until he almost emptied it.

"I know why you’re doing this" Sakusa said. 

Atsumu brought his mouth to his ear and whispered "Then ya know it’s all for ya" as one of his hands grabbed his arm, slowly descending towards his wrist, where he paused to tap with his fingers for a few seconds. 

A shiver made Sakusa's back straighten when Atsumu said "Practice is almost over, Omi-kun"

Sakusa looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, then said through gritted teeth "I hate you"

Atsumu's smirk didn't waver. 

He got closer again and spoke softly "I know yer mouth can do so much more than lying"

Then he got up and went under the net, not without giving him a light nudge with his thigh first.

Sakusa emptied his bottle.

…

Sakusa managed to remain alive until the end of practice only through sheer willpower. 

Atsumu had just told Meian that he and Sakusa would stay a little longer in the gym to perfect some techniques they didn’t think were good enough. Their captain rolled his eyes and advised them not to overwork themselves, then he disappeared into the corridor leading to their locker room. 

Sakusa turned to stare at Atsumu, making his eyes run on his figure, on his legs. He bit his lower lip. 

Hold back, the others are still here. Hold back, don’t let him win. Hold back, you can do it. Resist, don’t look at his thighs, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

Atsumu twirled the bottom hem of his shorts around his right index finger, uncovering the waves of skin that peeked out beyond the boundary of the knee pad. 

Breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe... 

"You’re detestable" he said in the calmest tone he could manage at the time. 

Suddenly he was thirsty again. 

"This and more for ya, Omi-Omi" he winked. 

Sakusa tried to distract himself: he grabbed a ball and began to serve, and again and again and again. And Atsumu positioned himself in the other court, ready to receive. Every time he ran or lowered to get the ball up, his knees would bend and his muscles would contract, and Sakusa’s mouth would get drier and drier. 

Breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe…

Sakusa made an effort not to think about all the things those thighs could do, he struggled not to relive all those leg workouts that he had seen Atsumu doing at the gym, he tried with all his might to repress the images of Atsumu jumping to hit one of Hinata's tosses.

He put so much force on his serve that the ball crushed several feet off the court. 

Just at that moment their teammates popped up at the door to say goodnight to them one last time before returning home.

Sakusa raised a hand to wave them goodbye. 

Go away go away go away.

Just when he was certain he was alone with Atsumu, Sakusa allowed himself to release the breath he was holding.

He approached the setter, who had sat on a bench. 

As soon as Atsumu saw him so close he went to take off his knee pads, but Sakusa grabbed his arm and stopped him, he couldn't allow him to do so. 

"Omi-kun, d'ya want to be the one to take 'em off?" he smiled at him through his long eyelashes. 

Sakusa wanted to rip them off.

Atsumu placed a hand on his forearm and ran his fingers on his arm until he reached the shoulder. He stood up and threw his arms around Sakusa's neck, caressing it along with the soft black curls of his hair. 

He was still grinning, because he knew what Sakusa wanted, because he knew it was him, he was smiling that smile that made him want to punch him on the lips, or bite, or kiss, or punch again, Sakusa was not sure, his patience was dancing on a very thin wire. 

"I can’t stand you" 

"Oh and whatcha gonna do 'bout that?" 

Sakusa moved toward the wall of the gym making Atsumu back off, and yet it seemed that his steps were so slow it physically hurt. Atsumu was doing it on purpose because he knew how it would end since the beginning and wanted to tease Sakusa a bit more. 

With one last step Sakusa slammed him against the wall and grabbed one of his thighs, sinking his nails into the polyester, his eyes were fixed on the crescent moon of Atsumu’s skin which was in plain sight for him and for him alone. That small portion of tan skin between the black of his shorts and that of the knee pad was like an oasis in the middle of the desert, a vision that could prove to be a mirage, but also salvation for a delusional and desperate man. 

Black suited Atsumu. Even in high school he wore a black uniform, even in high school his thighs were a sight to watch, carefully, with scientific rigor, especially when he performed that low set of his, the one that, over time, he had perfected.

Sakusa remembered making fun of him once during practice when he had bent a little too much and fallen to the floor, hitting his butt against it. His shorts had lifted a bit, a bit too much, showing the dunes and valleys of Atsumu’s thighs. That day Sakusa had not let his gaze dwell on him or on his body, because if he had done so he wouldn't have been able to hit another toss, if he had done so, he would have felt the need to touch what he was not allowed to touch, what he didn't allow himself to touch, to crave. 

But, god, Sakusa wanted to touch.

Sakusa moved his left hand on the knee pad, aware that the material wasn't thick enough to prevent Atsumu from feeling the heat. He continued to draw indefinite lines and deformed circles, traveling up and down, so slowly that Atsumu almost moaned. Almost. That wasn't good enough for Sakusa. 

"Yer having fun, huh?" 

"Shut up" 

"Make me" 

Sakusa eyerolled and put his palm on the exact spot where the knee pad ended and the skin began, he spread his fingers open and let them stay still for a while as he looked at Atsumu’s expression. 

The fucker was still smiling, as if he were challenging him to go on, as if he had already predicted that this would happen, but Sakusa saw something else in his eyes, a dark gleam of desire, of lust, of hunger.

Sakusa was certain that his own eyes mirrored that sinful light. 

He let his fingers slip unhurriedly under the knee pad, he let himself touch what he had always wanted to touch, no matter how sweaty Atsumu was, how dirty and full of germs the gym could be or the fact that the person in front of him was the walking equivalent of a bacterium. 

Sakusa wanted, needed, longed for- 

He gently lowered the knee pad until it reached the knee, touching Atsumu’s inner thigh with his fingertips, digging his nails into every soft spot he could find, or recall, or discover. He wanted to totally unravel Atsumu, he wanted to wipe that stupid grin off his face, he wanted to kiss every inch of muscle he could reach. 

He got even closer, Atsumu’s body arched to collide with his, but Sakusa moved a hand from his right thigh to his waist, as if to push him back against the wall. What he actually wished for was to see how he’d react, to feel his oblique abs shift under his touch, he wanted to feel everything about Atsumu.

He left a kiss that was more breath than lips on Atsumu’s neck and then he sank to his knees, grateful for his own knee pads for muffling the impact of the fall against the floor. Now both his hands were on Atsumu’s hips, and he was moving them down down down, lingering on the elastic band of Atsumu’s shorts, lowering it just a bit to see from up close the place where the bones of his pelvis collided, leaving a soft hollow between the solid hills of his body. Again, he decided to leave a kiss, kind enough to be pleasant, teasing enough to burn. 

"Omi-kun"

Sakusa lifted his head to look at Atsumu’s face through his eyelashes. He was met with pure desire: his cheeks were tinged light pink, in contrast to his black eyes, as if the pupils had completely swallowed the irises. Sakusa could no longer see any trace of that so familiar brown in them. 

Atsumu extended his hand to Sakusa’s hair, moving locks away from his forehead, gently tucking them behind his ears. There was something incredibly intimate about that gesture, about the tender smile that now adorned his lips. 

"Fuck, Omi, yer beautiful" he whispered.

And Sakusa felt his whole body shiver in anticipation and desire and pride because he had been able to get Atsumu to say something like that, with that deep voice. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi could make Miya Atsumu want, and this was almost too much to take. 

Sakusa kept tracing uncertain shapes on the right valley of his pelvis, because he knew it was one of Atsumu’s weak spots, one of the ones that could trigger an earthquake on his skin. When he saw his reaction, he smiled on the left side of Atsumu’s stomach, feeling him trembling under his lips. 

Sakusa couldn’t help but feel pleased with the knowledge of all the things he could make Atsumu’s body do just by using the tip of a finger, the slightest brush of his mouth, the wet touch of his tongue.

"'Tsumu" it sounded more like a moan than a whisper. Because Atsumu also had the same power on Sakusa. 

Another one of Atsumu's weak spots were his thighs, so Sakusa made his hands descend until he reached the light fabric of his shorts (for a second, the thought of ripping them off crossed his mind, just for a second). He slightly lifted the hem to be able to see more skin. He watched Atsumu’s muscles shift. And Sakusa hadn't even touched him.

He licked his lips. 

Atsumu’s thighs were strong, they were sculpted with meticulous precision, it didn't exist a single centimeter of them that wasn't a perfectly defined muscle. 

And every part of them was ready for the collision with Sakusa’s body.

He kissed the strip of promised land that was exposed, while one of his hands stood on the thigh that he had previously stripped of its tight armor, moving up up up, slipping under his shorts, caressing him until he reached his boxers, leaving his fingers to travel along the thin line that once again separated fabric and skin. 

In his confused halo of bliss Sakusa managed to form the thought that perhaps it was all about borders. How carefully we approach them, the ways in which we overcome them, the respect we give them. That day, every single border brought back to Atsumu’s body: the line separating his brand new knee pads from his thighs, the very thin boundary between his boxers and his inner thigh, the breath between Sakusa’s lips and Atsumu's muscles. 

Sakusa made two of his fingers walk along the circumference of Atsumu’s thigh, just above the edge of the knee pad that hadn't been lowered. Not yet. 

And Atsumu moaned his name. 

Sakusa felt the blood rush to his stomach. 

He let his fingers slip slowly under the black material and then pushed down with such vehemence that it was almost torn off. 

Atsumu flinched.

Sakusa stuck his nails in the back part of his legs, close to the knee, and gradually began to mark a path upwards, until he reached his ass, and higher up, on the lower part of his back, digging into the soft skin that was waiting for him, while his lips continued to kiss both thighs, his teeth left reddish almost perfect circles behind them and, whenever Atsumu murmured something that resembled his name, Sakusa alleviated the pain his bites caused with careful brushes of his tongue. 

Atsumu moaned and writhed under his hands and lips, Sakusa felt his quadriceps shift and move only for him. He allowed himself the umpteenth look upwards.

Atsumu was a mess. 

Sakusa had made him a mess. 

He smiled. 

But Atsumu found enough resolve to place a finger under Sakusa’s chin, lifting his head to make their eyes meet again, silently inviting him to stand up.

Sakusa got up without stopping their staring contest.

"Dontcha think you’ve had enough fun?" Atsumu’s lips were one millimeter from his ear, and his breath caressed his neck, and caused the hair on his arms to stand on edge. 

"It’s never enough with you" he replied. 

Atsumu kissed him. And that kiss was a promise of infinity. 

"Happy birthday, Omi-kun" he smiled against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> In conlusion: Atsumu's thighs are superior  
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
